by Karis Walsh
“I have a sequined tuxedo at home,” Kira said, happy to hear Julie’s tentative laugh at their teasing. “It’ll be more suitable.”
*
Kira sat on an upturned bucket and watched Julie warm up for her class. She wasn’t as comfortable riding English style as she was Western, but she had managed to qualify for state in both seats. One of the things Kira liked most about Julie’s 4-H experience was her exposure to different styles of riding. Abby stood on the sidelines, and Julie paused near her every few laps while the two talked and gestured. Then Julie would ride off again.
Kira watched in amazement as Julie and Nirvana seemed to improve after each stop. Whatever advice Abby was giving her must be helping, because Nirvana’s stride seemed to stretch longer and Julie sat taller and more relaxed on her back. Kira smiled. She still wasn’t convinced it was safe for her equanimity to get too attached to Abby, but she was starting to believe Abby was a good influence on Julie. Not only was she helping with her riding, but she’d been invaluable today as both Kira and Julie coped with what had happened last night. Kira wanted to resist Abby’s assistance because it might turn into control, and Kira wasn’t going down that road again. But she’d allow Abby to hover close by for a while longer. Julie needed her. Kira didn’t.
Abby had driven them to Kira’s house, where she had taken a hot shower and changed into non-bloody clothes. She’d stood under the spraying cocoon of water and hadn’t wanted to get out again. Her muscles were still tight, but the warmth of the water helped loosen them up again. Even better were the heated seats in Abby’s car. Kira had nestled into the warmth, finally feeling the deep chill leave her bones. Quite an improvement over her ride in Tad’s trunk. After a quick stop at Abby’s while she ran into her house and picked up her riding clothes for the day, they had come to the fair. Abby and Julie had talked horse all the way, leaving Kira to just rest in the heat and comfort, and by the time they reached the fairgrounds she was feeling human again. Now, Kira angled her face to the sun and thought about Abby’s home. She’d expected sleek and modern, not the ancient Victorian with its faded and peeling yellow paint with white trim and the tidy but simple front lawn. Abby wasn’t what Kira had expected at all, based on her first impressions.
She took out her cell phone and dialed one of the volunteers who was working with her on the Milford project. She needed to distract her mind from thoughts of Abby and from any attempt to understand the woman beneath the uptight cop exterior. She’d get back to work, back to her pre-fair reality. She listened to the voice mail message and waited for the beep.
“Keith, hi. It’s Kira. Tad Milford, um, passed away last night. We need to find out who’s going to inherit the land—whether it will go to an heir or to the investors. I’ll stop by the courthouse Monday and check the deed, and then we can pull together a meeting to plan our next steps. I want to get this development stopped. Talk to you Monday. Bye.”
“Jeez, what happened to you?”
Kira stood up, nearly knocking the bucket over in her haste. “Dale,” she said, her voice as icy as her bones had been this morning. “What are you doing here?”
“Last I heard this area wasn’t closed to the public.” Dale stepped closer and took Kira’s hand. She closed her fingers around Kira’s slender wrist where the zip tie had been. Her touch was gentle, but Kira felt as if a manacle had been locked on. “What happened?” she repeated.
Kira tugged her hand away. The movement bruised her swollen skin, but the sharp bite of pain was preferable to Dale’s soft touch. “Get your hands off me,” she said. Dale smiled at her, seemingly unperturbed by Kira’s demand.
“Okay, okay. Calm down and lower your voice, please.” Dale put up her hands in a sign of surrender. She wore a button-down chambray shirt and dark jeans, in her usual business-casual style of dress. Kira smelled the sea-breeze scent of her familiar cologne when Dale pushed her bangs out of her eyes. Dale’s hair was short, but she always had worn the front about an inch too long—Kira remembered how she had used to feel the itch to reach out and push those damned bangs aside, revealing Dale’s shockingly blue eyes. Dale was pretty in a powerful, androgynous way. Charismatic. Kira had been drawn to the very qualities that had eventually been turned up in volume and turned on her.
“I just wanted to find out why you’re sitting over here looking like you’ve been worked over.” Dale moved closer again, into Kira’s space without touching her. Kira wanted to back away, but she stood her ground. She wouldn’t let Dale intimidate her until she was pushed back against the barn wall. “Well, I guess you always did like it a little rough.”
The rage Kira had felt churning inside her since last night seemed to coil in her stomach like a serpent. First Tad had humiliated and threatened her, and now Dale was up to her old tricks. She had never asked, always told Kira who she was and what she wanted and had never really paid attention to Kira’s own truths. The police had failed Kira when Dale had finally pushed past her limits, but Kira hadn’t failed herself. She’d gotten away on her own, without any assistance, and she was damned sure she wasn’t going to be dragged back into Dale’s self-serving fictions.
“You need to—”
“Everything okay here?” Abby’s voice was professional and cold. Her casual stance was belied by her hand resting on the hilt of her Taser, and Kira felt Abby’s authority like a tangible thing.
“You must be the one who made those marks on Kira.” Dale gestured at Abby’s duty belt. “Did you handcuff her to the bed for a game of cops and robbers?”
“Why don’t you stop talking and move along,” Abby said, seemingly unfazed by Dale’s insinuations. “This is a place for kids and families.”
“Why do I need to go? Am I breaking any laws, Officer?” Dale asked. She didn’t move from Kira’s side.
“Lieutenant,” Abby corrected her.
Kira wanted to punch both of them. She had pent-up frustration from being so helpless the night before, and she had already proven to herself that she was strong enough not only to resist Dale, but to stand up to her. She could feel how much she had needed to take control after being out of control last night, but Abby had taken the chance away from her. She might be trying to protect her, but she had pushed her down and silenced her instead.
“Abby, I can handle this on my own. Dale, you need to—”
“Lieutenant? Hmm, too bad they don’t pay you public servants enough, so you’re forced to work as riding teachers to make ends meet.”
Abby smiled in a predatory way. “We’re just enjoying the fair and minding our own business. If you can’t do the same, I’ll be happy to escort you out.”
“Maybe I’d rather hang around and talk to my good friend Kira. How about you escort yourself straight to—”
“Stop, both of you,” Kira hissed with enough power to make them stop their pissing contest and look at her. She saw Julie riding toward them with a concerned look on her face, and she wanted this over before she got to them. “Dale, I’ve told you this before. Get the hell out of my life and stay away. I am not in the mood for your games, and I never will be again. Go.”
Dale grinned and shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you want, my darling. Your wish is my command. See you later. Lieutenant.”
Dale walked past Julie and patted her on the leg. “You look good out there, kiddo. I’ll be cheering you on from the stands.”
“Mom, why’s Dale here? Is everything all right?”
“Yes, of course. Nirvana has a mud stain on her back leg. You should clean it off before you go in your class.”
Julie leaned to the right and looked at Nirvana’s dirty white sock. “Oh, cripes. I didn’t notice that before.”
She hopped off her horse and led her down the aisle. Kira tried to count to ten before she exploded at Abby. She had been supportive today, for Kira and Julie, but now she was overstepping her bounds.
“Nice friend you’ve got there,” Abby said. “Maybe you and Julie should stay at my house toni
ght, just to be sure—”
“Thank you, but no,” Kira said, her voice and words unyielding.
Abby looked at her and frowned. “Are you sure everything is okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”
“Look, Abby, I appreciate what you’ve done today. For me, for Julie. Even for her riding. But what happened with Dale is none of your business. I was handling it, and you had no right to push me aside and take over.”
“Hey, Kira, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Of course you weren’t. But you did.” Kira shook her head. “I’m not helpless. I’m not a damsel in need of rescuing or a child in need of parenting. Don’t ever treat me that way again.”
She walked away before Abby could answer. She had known better than to get involved with someone like her from the start. Abby was the type who would always be in control, would always assert herself in any situation. Kira didn’t need her. She was strong enough to stand on her own.
Chapter Ten
Abby watched Kira walk away from her, disappearing down the aisle after Julie and Nirvana. Talk about overreacting. Abby had only been trying to assess the situation. Kira had been visibly upset by her friend Dale’s appearance, and Abby…well, she hadn’t liked the woman from first sight. Something seemed off about her. She’d been standing too close to Kira and she’d been outright rude and disrespectful to Abby. Kira hadn’t needed to jump down her throat just because she had done what any cop in the same situation would have done. Still, Kira had been through a traumatic experience, and mood swings and emotional outbursts were to be expected.
She should walk away and leave Kira in peace, but she had promised Julie she’d watch her class. She went into the arena and leaned against one of the metal railings. When she’d competed in 4-H, classes had been held in the old wooden barn-style arena. This newer one was huge, with good dirt footing and plenty of room for the horses, as well as the other events held there throughout the year. Abby felt it was too harsh, though. The halide lights, shining down from the metal-beamed ceiling, were overly bright, and the aluminum bleachers clanged and squeaked every time someone climbed up to a seat. The ring itself was surrounded by a high concrete barrier, and the concrete extended to the seating area. The open ends let in a little natural sunlight, but the atmosphere was chilly.
Inside the ring, though, the horses circling with barely audible footfalls gave the place a softer feel. There were hundreds of kids competing during the fair, and each division was separated into sections of ten or more riders. Abby watched the class—the one before Julie’s—and hoped the rhythmic trots and canters would seep into her and restore her equilibrium. She was confused by Kira. She had been determined to avoid her, and then she’d given herself permission to get to know her if their paths crossed during the fair. She’d been prepared to walk away this morning after Kira became police business because of the kidnapping. She had relented yet again, though, and had crossed one of the strict boundaries she had set for herself when she decided she’d stick around for the investigation. She should have left Kira with Detective Carter and—as she had just been told to do—minded her own damned business.
The group in the ring lined up while the judge took one last look at them and made her final decisions. Each class was judged separately, and the championship riders from each section would return to compete against each other. Abby could see Julie and Nirvana waiting outside for their turn to ride. She wanted to go out and talk to them, but she knew the rules. 4-H kids were supposed to handle most of the event by themselves, on their own for everything from cleaning to prep work to time management.
Abby judged the class in her own mind, not surprised that she picked the same top horse-and-rider combinations as the judge. The group filed out of the ring, and Julie entered with her section. Abby looked for Kira among the other spectators and finally saw her sitting next to some other parents. Abby returned her attention to the ring and smiled at Julie when she trotted by. Nirvana looked good, but Julie held her inside rein too tightly and was restricting the mare’s movement slightly. Abby sighed in frustration. She was getting too involved with Kira and Julie and she didn’t understand why she’d broken her own clear rules for the two of them. If it’s personal, stay out of it. Work is work, it’s never personal. Kira had blown all her strong resolutions out the window, and she had the gall to say Abby was the one in control?
“Loosen your right rein,” she hissed when Julie rode by again. She watched in relief as Julie did what she asked and let the mare move more freely. They weren’t the top pair in the group and probably wouldn’t be champion, but they ought to get a high ribbon. Because she’d stepped in instead of letting Julie figure out how to fix her riding on her own.
God, maybe Kira was right. Maybe she was too bossy. Earlier, Abby had had a suspicion that the woman she saw approach Kira—causing her to startle so violently—was the ex from the police report her brother had written, when he claimed there was no sign of domestic abuse, and then she’d recognized Dale Burke’s name once she heard it. She had felt compelled to get her away from Kira. She had been through too much—she didn’t need to deal with an abusive ex-girlfriend right after her kidnapping.
She thought about exactly what Kira had suffered last night. Indignity, loss of control, and abuse of power and control. Abby had been trying to rescue her from more of the same when she intervened with Dale. But had she really done the same thing as Tad and Dale? Had she taken away Kira’s right to control her own life?
Damn. Abby gripped the metal rail. She’d used her strength, her position, in the wrong way. She’d abused them, just like she had promised herself she’d never, ever do. She watched Julie pick up her ribbon, and then she hurried out the door. She’d congratulate her quickly, even though she wanted to avoid Kira. She was in too deep to stop now, but as soon as she knew who had shot Tad Milford and why, she’d get the hell away from Kira and Julie. She had to make certain her brother wasn’t involved and that Kira was truly safe. The killer had let her go without harming her—although mystifyingly without helping her either—but as the investigation went on and the detectives got closer to finding the shooter, he or she might get spooked. Worry that Kira had heard something, had some clue to the killer’s identity. Then she’d be in danger yet again. A cold-blooded murderer wouldn’t hesitate to get her out of the way.
“Well done,” she said when she met Julie near the arena’s exit. Kira hovered in the background, obviously waiting for Abby to leave before she congratulated her daughter. Abby kept a smile on her face while Julie gushed about Nirvana’s performance and Abby’s help, but Abby barely heard a word she said. Everything receded, leaving only the mental echo of the phrase cold-blooded murderer juxtaposed with the actual presence of Julie and Kira. Abby was fooling herself when she pretended she could walk away anytime.
“I shouldn’t have reminded you about your rein,” Abby said when Julie paused to take a breath. “Next time I watch you ride I can give you some ways to evaluate yourself while you’re riding. So you won’t have to rely on me or anyone else when you’re in the ring.”
Julie nodded. “I felt something was off, but I didn’t know what until you told me what to do.” She leaned forward on Nirvana’s neck and lowered her voice. “Was it cheating? Should I give my ribbon back?”
Abby had to laugh at Julie’s serious, yet weirdly pleased expression, as if she was imagining a dramatic and valiant entreaty for the judge’s forgiveness. She patted Julie’s knee. “You can keep your ribbon with a clear conscience. You didn’t break any rules—I was the one who should have kept my mouth shut. Now go talk to your mom. She’s bursting with pride over there.”
Abby stepped back and watched Kira and Julie. She had two duties toward them, whether Kira liked it or not. First, she had to keep them alive. Find the killer and make sure they were out of danger. Second, she was determined to help Kira get past the fear and helplessness Tad had driven into her. If it meant standing by while Kira did her own yelling at her ex, s
o be it. She’d sacrifice her own vanity and protective instincts and not rise to Dale’s bait if they met again.
Abby had another source of support for Kira in mind, but asking for it required Abby to tear down another of her barriers. She entered the police aisle and looked in the stalls until she found Billie in Ranger’s stall. She was crouched down with her back to the aisle, painting the gelding’s hooves with an oil-based conditioner, but she stood and faced Abby before she had made a sound.
“Hey, Lieutenant. How’s your friend?”
So, news of not only Kira’s abduction, but also her relationship with Abby had already spread through the ranks. Abby wasn’t surprised. News moved quickly through the small department, and transference was nearly instantaneous in a tight-knit unit like her mounted team.
“She’s doing all right. She came out here to watch her daughter ride and she’s been keeping busy.” Abby rubbed her wrists, picturing Kira’s wounds.
Billie twisted the cap back on the jar of hoof oil and came out of Ranger’s stall. She was only a few inches over five feet and had delicately beautiful features to match, but the entire department knew better than to underestimate her because of her size. The few who had, never did so twice. Abby had read Billie’s file, but it was merely an outline of her time in the military and on the department. Her actual experiences were locked away behind those intense dark brown eyes.
“You’re worried about what will happen to her once she slows down,” Billie said. She tucked black hair behind one ear. “When she’s alone and has time to think.”
“And remember,” Abby said with a nod. She’d figured Billie would understand.
“Hang on,” Billie said. She went into the team’s tack room and came right back out with a pen and a piece of paper. She wrote her information and handed it to Abby. “This is my personal number. Tell her to give me a call anytime, if she ever needs someone to talk to while she’s coping with the memories.”